Four Leaf Clover
by Washuu Puppet
Summary: Misty has become a slave just because she is a catholic...but once her young master becomes sweet to her and offers his help, will she accept? And in the end, will they make it..
1. Rebellion

            Savage shouts and flames lick the night-time sky. Torches held tightly in villager's hands. The orange glow from the fire is reflected on the dew-stunned grass across the fields and farms. Inside a little cabin, not too far from the forest's edge, a young girl cowers in her mother's arms as her father keeps watch out the window. The door is locked and a gun is ready. All the gas lanterns are turned off so the residence looks to be empty. The young girl sobs and gets the top of her mothers' dress soaked. Such a hard life for those people. And now the time they most feared had come. A rebellion against their own people. 

            "I'm scared, Papa, really scared." The young girl cried.

            "It'll be okay, Misty. Don't worry." Her father comforted by the window, patting his hand down on the air.

            "But Papa, they'll get us! They'll get us for sure!" Misty says full of worry.

            "It's nothing to be frightened about, Dear." Her mother rocks. "We're safe. As long as we're a loving family under our Father's mighty arms, nothing can harm us."

            "Don't you worry, Mama." Misty assures in her slight Irish accent. "I'm prayin', I'm prayin'."

            It was a bad time in Ireland. Some people weren't trusted for their religious beliefs. Most of all, Christians. And Misty's family was strong Christians. And afraid as ever of being caught by the other people. The rich people that own large plantations and factories. You'd be beaten, scorned, tortured, put through back-breaking labor, and even killed if you didn't watch your mouth around them. They captured any Christian that was acting under God's will in public. Even in private they feared capture, for sometimes, the villagers broke into homes, looking for workers. This was the largest rebellion they have ever seen. So much blood shed. But the other villagers thought it was a good thing. Profits for them were soaring through the roof with all the new workers they had on the plantations and in their factories. More slaves mean more materials to sell, which means more income…which is more money. They'd do anything for more money. 

            "The shouts are getting closer, Papa." Misty said. "The fire is getting brighter also. I can hear their flames rippling already."

            "It's okay! It's okay!" Misty's Papa yelled hoarsely. But the grip on his gun was getting tighter every minute.

            "Mama," Misty began. "I've asked the Lord, I've even begged. But no help has come yet."

            "Sometimes it takes a while for Him to answer our prayers, little one. Just be patient, be patient." Mama smoothes her daughter's rustic and puffy orange hair.

            "I'm too young to die, Mama. I'm only 14." Misty cries. "I don't wanna."

            "You're not going to die." 

            The angry villager's bellows become more thick and vivid of words. They get louder and more treacherous as the seconds click by slowly. Misty's Papa quickly dodges out of the window's sight as a Man's face pears inside. His torch handy. You can hear a small conversation going on outside. Then, it was silent. Too silent.

            "I'm scared." Misty barely whispered. "They know we're here, Mama. They know of our Lord. His cross hangs outside our door."

            Glass shatters as a flaming torch is thrown through the window. Misty's Papa quickly grabs his gun but is too late for the men who bombard the door until it crashes to the floor. They knock him out of the way and take his gun. Misty screams  and stands up with her Mother who still holds her in her arms. They head for the back door but again were too slow. Two men came towards them and wrenched them apart. Misty screamed and kicked and failed. Her Mama didn't do much to speak of. Just yelled her husband's name over and over. He lay motionless on the wooden floor.

            "Papa! Papa!" Misty could barely shout through a mouthful of tears. "Papa!"

            "Get up." Misty's Mama told him. "Get up!" It was then, she cried.

             Misty and her Mama were taken out of the house where they then saw a large carriage. The back was like a gigantic cage that already had a few men, women, and children in it. Misty and Mama were thrown into the back along with the rest and got one last look at their country house. It wasn't a very good sight for a last memory. For right then, the other men were dragging Papa out of the front door. He was still as limp as a rag doll. His shiny, black boots thumping against the small door step, and then gliding along the damp grass. The sound was disgusting. Like a serpent on water. It was the silent slither of death. Misty and Mama both knew it. They fell into each other's arms and cried. Cried for Papa, cried for the rest of the people in the wagon, and most important of all, for the Lord's help to save their lives. Dawn was just coming up for the endless hills of corn and meadow. A deadly orange glow that eclipsed everybody's faces making them look even more sorrowful. 

            "Mama." Misty looked up.

            "Yes, dear. We still must." Mama said referring to their daily routine. "Thank you, Lord, for another day. And helping us through…the night."

            "Amen." Misty finished it, but with an unexpected hic-up from her tears. 


	2. Going once Going twice SOLD!

            Misty, Mama, and the rest of the people that were in the large, caged, cart were later drove out of the grassy country. Misty never left Mama's arms. Neither could she stop staring at the other people in the wagon. Some were younger then herself, and others were older then Mama. All of them had the same glum look upon their faces. Others cried and others prayed, while the rest just sat there with a look of disbelief. As they headed towards town, little boys started to chase their cart. They stuck out their tongues at them and made rude gestures, and mostly, they laughed. Along the bumpy road, they continued to coast. Nobody said anything. Finally, they reached town, and were brought into the center square. A large podium had been set up in the middle and a crowd was already gathering.

            "What are they going to do with us, Mama?" Misty asked.

            "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know." Mama replied as she tightened her grip.

            "Alright, you bunch of fools, get out. Get out!" The man driving the carriage shouts behind his shoulder and another opens the cage door.

            They all file out and are pushed, as a group, towards the huge stand in the middle of the town square. They are put into a line right besides the steps and the first few were to go up them. Afterwards, the second driver comes along and makes sure that everybody keeps their place and a third man goes up on stage to stand next to the couple standing up their already. 

            "Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen! I welcome you this lovely morning. And as you all know, we are here to get some bids!" The man announces. The crowd cheers.

            "Mama…" Misty says quietly. "They're…going to sell us?"

            "Don't worry about it, deary. Nothing is going to go wrong." Mama comforted.

            The man on stage continues. "Here we have a nice couple. The man looks to be in good shape, and the woman doesn't look too bad either. Do we have any starting bids?" 

            The crowd starts raising hands and shouting out various prices. Misty looked into the crowd of people and all you could see were suits and fine dresses. They were all the rich people who owned the factories and plantations. This is what every Christian feared. Being caught and sold to these people for work. Now, some of their nightmares have come to life. Misty curled up in her Mama's hug once more and had nothing else to do but wait her turn. Once they were sold to a master, that person had all the control he or she wanted over them. They could get whipped for anything, as if they were dogs. If they coughed while working or felt the slightest bit of drowsiness. The number of people in line decreased as the numbers of people were successfully sold. Soon, way to soon, it was Misty and Mama's turn to walk up the stairs and onto the podium. They were both afraid they'd get separated, but to their luck, for once, were put on sale as a pair.

            "A mother and daughter, both good witted and fit for work." The man announced to the crowd. "Do we have any starting bids?"

            "Mama, what happens after this?" Misty asked silently.

            "Just hold strong, hold strong." Mama embraced her daughter with one arm. 

            "360!" A member of the assembly cried.

            "410!" A woman from the opposite side shouted.

            "Going, once…going, twice!" The man held up his hand.

            "450!"

            "465!"

            "600!" A lone couple yelled.

            "Whoa!" The announcer said in shock. "600 to the man and wife over to my right! Going, once…going, twice?" 

            The crowd fell silent as they looked over at the two people who placed the large bid. Misty couldn't see who they were, but you could tell by the other people in the crowd, that they were already a respected family. The man who announced the event held his hand up in the air after a while.

            "SOLD!" He let his hand fall as if to slice the air.

            Mama held tight to Misty as they were escorted off the stage and to their new Master and Mistress. The Master had dark black hair and the madam, pure, and pretty brown. Mistress looked so kind, but the man had such a stern look upon his face. So serious at first glance. It might take a while to get used to that. As they got nearer, the Mistress smiled at them.

            "Welcome to the family." She said cheerfully. Misty looked at her funny, but also full of secret fear.

            "Thank you." Mama said and bowed her head for a while.

            "No need for that." Mistress smiled again.

            "Dear…" Master sneered. 

            "Yes, Honey." Mistress cleared her throat and looked up at her husband in slight disgust. "Follow us please."

            Mama placed a hand on Misty's back so she could be pushed along. Her legs seemed to be frozen. They walked being Master and Mistress solemnly. At least they were still together. They had to keep that in mind. The Mistress looked back at them a few times. Her periwinkle dress flowing with every step. Master remained stiff in his brown suit. Misty admired the lace bow that Mistress had her hair tied back with. 

            "So," Mistress gazed back again. "How old are you little one? What is your name?"

            Misty squeaked. "Misty, Ma'am. And I'm 14."

            "Such a lovely name." Mistress replied. "We have one of our own that's about your age as well. Maybe you two will get along."

            "I don't think he'll be interested." Master said. His voice was like a brick.

            Misty lingered like a ghost. She felt it wasn't her place to reply to that.  They said they had a child that was her age. But he was a boy. She had a few friends back home that were boys, but they were all like her. She tried to imagine what this son was like, being raised by such parents. His mother was really kind, but his father…that was hard to place. Which one did he take after? They reached a carriage and were told to sit in the back. They hopped in and the crack of a whip made the horses start to walk down the path. Misty looked towards the front of the vehicle and could see a large white and brick-red building in the distance. A plantation. It had fields stretching out in each direction and a few little huts out in the yard away from the house. That was most likely their new home and where they were to work and cook and harvest. And possibly be punished brutally. A new life, that was for sure. They were sold, that was it. They had no choice now.

            "Mama," Misty started.

            "It's okay," Mama said instinctively. "Remember, always smile."

            "Yes, Mama." Misty sighed and looked once more at the approaching plantation. 


	3. Brick of Silver

            They reach the plantation within ten minutes and were somewhat helped out of the back of Master and Mistress's wagon. It was then, when Master and Mistress were talking to Mama, that Misty took the chance to take a look around the place. She put her hand over her eyes for protection from the bright morning sun and could see nothing but fields for miles. This was a large one. They must be richer then the people she has imagined. All of a sudden, you hear a shout from the house.

            "So, that is where you have been all morning?! I thought you said we had enough of those." It was a young boy. Enough of those? He talks of us as if we're a something, Misty thought, not a someone. 

            "Is that my son talking?" Master asked sternly. "Aren't you the one who said we should get you some of your own?"

            "Really?" The greedy little boy said. He came running over to them and Misty finally got a good look at him.

            Master and Mistress had a son that was about the same height and size of Misty, herself. He didn't look as refined as his father or mother. He wore black trousers and a regular button-up shirt underneath. An outfit any of Misty's friends would have worn. He had this punky aura, sort of seemed like he'd be a bully. But then Misty observed his eyes, a soft brown. Just like his mother's. But his hair was the same midnight black of his father's. It was so untidy, giving him more of a rustic and wild look. Misty looked down at his hands, that rested upon his hips. They were clean, as white and probably as soft, as a babies. He most likely has done no work in his life. Always had someone else do it for him. She would be the next to fulfill the job. 

            The Master and Mistress's boy looked Misty and Mama both from head to foot with an odd glint in his eye. "So, these are mine?"

            "No," Master replied. "The young one is."

            "Me? I get the puny, red-head?" The boy said, full of disgust.

            "Well, she," Master referred to Mama, "Will be our replacement cook. The young one has more strength left in her. She'll work some of the fields. And since she is going to work on your part of the plantation, you need to supervise as usual."

            "No problem, Pop." The boy waved off. He walks closer to Misty and looks straight into her deep, aqua eyes. "What's your name girl?"  
            Misty just stared at him.

            "I said, what is your name!?" The boy repeated with a louder voice.

            Mama gave Misty a little punch in the back. 

            "Misty." Misty finally blurted.

            "I wouldn't keep that kind of attitude with me, brat." The boy bonks Misty's nose with his pointer finger. "You answer me properly and treat me with respect, otherwise you will get it. Got that?"

            "Yes." Misty said.

            "What was that?" The boy put his hand up to his ear.

            "Yes, sir." Misty said louder.

            "That's more I like it." The boy put his hand back on his hips. 

            Master was smiling. "I'll leave you to show her around and tell her what to do, okay, son? Your mother and I are going to take this one to the kitchen."

            "No problem, Pop." The boy saluted again.

            "Have fun!" Mistress giggled. She always had a smile on her face.

            "Now," The boy turned back to Misty. "First, you should know my name. It's Ash. But you will call me Master Ash. Got it?"

            "Yes."

            "What was that?"

            "Yes, sir."

            "What was that?!?"

            "Yes, Master Ash." Misty almost spat at his feet. This could get really annoying. She told herself to stay calm, and to control her anger. 

            "That's better." Ash smiled. "I just want to set down a few statistics and rules that you are going to have to follow and know. Number one, you are to work and do mostly whatever I tell you to. Hence, that's why you're a slave!"

            Misty's anger started to boil slightly.

            "Second, this may sound weird, but it's the truth. I don't like to do this. I never did. I don't like taking care of you people who obviously could take care of themselves. I won't be calling you anything like brat, and sorry if I hurt your feelings before." His voice sounded like he didn't really mean that. "My Mum and Dad have a tendency to rub off on me and it makes me feel like I have to act like them."

            "That's understandable, Master." Misty whispered. Even when the boy's emotions changed, his eyes always stayed that soft and sweet color she liked so much.

            Ash chuckles a little bit. "Third, I can see that you are also human, Misty. I won't treat you like some animal, or at least try not to. I may have to get a little harsh if my parents or an overseer is close by. Understand?"

            "Yes, Master."

            "Thank you, Misty." Ash nodded. "Now, I'll take you over to your cabin and you can get comfortable. Then I'll show you the fields and how to work them and what exactly you have to do in them. You'll be in the same cabin as your Mother, at least I presume that was your mother."

            "Yes, Master."

            Master Ash took Misty to the cabins, the fields, and everywhere else that she had to know to start her new life here, which she found out was the Ketchum Plantation. She would plow, plant, and harvest and sometimes do the laundry, collect water from the well and clean the manner every once in a while. That schedule didn't sound too bad. But Misty also knew that she hadn't tried it yet, it may be harder and more stressful than it sounded. After the round tour and instructions, which took a little over an hour, Ash stopped Misty in front of her cabin.

            "You will start after lunch, which will be brought out here for you." Ash said pointing to the back door of the house. That must have lead to the kitchen. "Right now, the crops have already been planted. It is now time for weeding."

            "Okay, Master." Misty nodded.

            When Misty lifted her head to look at him, to her surprise, he was smiling the biggest smile she's seen on his face so far. "Misty," He said. "You somewhat astonish me."

            "Excuse me?" Misty said automatically.

            He looked at her a glare of death, but then turned into an instant laugh. He throws his head back. "Yet another thing that amazes me."

            "I'm afraid I don't understand, Master." Misty said confused.

            "Don't worry, Red." Ash places his hand on her shoulder. She felt a little uncomfortable at that. "I'll explain it later. Now go get some rest! Your Mum will be back with some lunch later. Then it's off to work. I'll be watching you."

            "Yes, Master." Misty bowed once more and he left. 

            There was something about that boy that was still left in mystery. In deep shadows that Misty couldn't see. He seemed so strict, yet so kind. He took after his Mama and Papa. He had the soul of a brick, but the heart that was as soft and pure as silver. He was just roped into this, it seemed. But Misty just had one impression. She didn't want to get too involved or close. That would be dangerous. Misty then heads into the cabin and lays down on her bed that has a very thin mattress on it. Lunch would be arriving soon, and then it was off to work. 


	4. Christian Brand

            "Misty, wake up, dear. I have some lunch for you." Mama's voice called.

            Misty sat up in her bed and rubbed the little sleep she got from her eyes. On the small table in the center of the cabin sat a tray with bread, cheese, cucumber, and a jug of water. Misty climbed off her bed and took a small piece of the bread to eat. Mama did the same. She almost seemed happy.

            "How can you be happy, Mama?" Misty asked with a rough tone.

            "You think of me as happy? Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not. But I must to please these people." Mama replied through a mouthful.

            "Okay," Misty agreed. "Mama,"

            "Yes?"

            "Have you noticed…that all the other workers here have a cross on their cheek. Their right one. It doesn't look like paint at all. It looks more like a giant scab." Misty reported. She had seen many of these people on her little tour.

            "Yes…I have. All the servants in the manner have them as well. And I think we are to get them also." Mama said. "It must be a symbol of our 'race'…since we have no color difference from our Masters."

            "How do they do such a thing, Mama?" Misty asked.

            "You'll find out."

            "You know, don't you?" questioned Misty.

            "Yes, but I think of it as safe, not to tell you." Mama replied.

            Misty just stared. "Master was an odd boy."

            "Was he?" Mama says as she grabs for a slice of cucumber.

            "Yes, he told me weird things. Things you wouldn't normally hear from a Master. Things you wouldn't except." Said Misty. "I thought he would be like his father, rough and jagged and sharp. Part of him was like that. But the other half was like his mother. Soft and sweet, but not too gullible."

            "Well, it is only right to inherit both things from your mother and your father." Mama points out. "They both made you together. Not just one of them."

            "Yes, I know that. But personalities aren't like that. Aren't I more like you then Papa?" Misty asked but then fell back. The mentioning of her Papa was a little heart-wrecking. 

            "It's okay dear." Mama pats Misty on the head. 

            A knock hits the door, and without asking if they may come in, it is barged open. Two men stand there with stern looks. They must have been overseers because of the whips they held in their huge hands. They approached Misty and Mama and grabbed hold of one of their arms, pulling them out of the door. So many things to happen all in one day. Misty didn't know whether to be scared or to think of it as a simple routine. Mama and Misty are taken across one of the fields to a small, open shack. It was were the blacksmiths worked.

            "Don't worry," One of the overseers coughed. "This won't take long."

            After Misty and Mama had entered the smithy, Master Ash did as well, hands on his hips and that typical smirk upon his face. "Looky, looky. I guess it's time to your tags on straight, ain't it?" His face smoothes down, almost into a smile. Then a door slamming could be heard in the distance and he automatically turned that smile into an evil grimace. "Get in the corner!"

            Misty huddled over to the corner with Mama and they just stood there, waiting for something to happen. 

            "Now, who's going first?" Ash asks. Mama goes to step forward, but Misty beats her to it. 

            "Misty,"

            "Mama, I'm not a little kid anymore." Misty says without turning to face her. 

            "Come over here." Ash demands. Misty starts to walk slowly towards him. "I don't have all day, missy!" Ash bellows and takes the whip from his belt-loop and smacks Misty over the shoulder with it. Her dress splits to reveal a small line of blood. Misty didn't know why he was being so mean, he was so nice to her a little while ago. Then she saw Ash's Father striding across the lawn. That's why. 

            Misty walks a little faster. "Sorry, Master." 

            "You better be!" Ash yells.

            Then, when Misty had reached a certain spot, a few overseers tackle her and hold her to the ground. A skinny man, one who had that cross on his cheek, walks over to Misty's side and holds out a long iron rod that glowed orange at the tip. He turned it over and started to bring it down towards Misty's right cheek. The tip of the rod was shaped like a cross. It wasn't a giant scab, all the Christians were being branded. Misty could feel the heat as the scorching metal came closer and closer to her pale and sensitive skin. It finally touched and the pain began. Oh, did it hurt. Oh, did it burn! Misty screamed and closed her eyes, but then forced them to squint. She saw Ash among the overseers holding her down, clenching his whip with white knuckles, as if to hold back some kind of rage. Mama still stood in the corner, half of her face covered with her hands. Maybe she was just sad for Misty, or maybe she was just scared…knowing that she was next. 

            The iron comes off of Misty's cheek and the overseers let her go. She dares not touch it, but sits up and looks at Ash. "Sorry," he mouths to her and then points her to the door and to leave. 

            "That hurt." Misty tells her Mama about an hour later as she sits on her bed in their shack. "It burns when my tears fall across it."

            "Mine too, sweetheart." Mama agrees. "Mine too."

            "Master Ash said Sorry to me." Misty remembered.

            Mama looks surprised. "He did?"

            "Yes, Mama." Misty looked out the window to the setting sun. "He did."


	5. It is not polite to point

                        Misty woke up the next morning with the sun shining direction on her face through the east window. She winces as she sits up and shields her eyes with one hand. After she arouses completely, she gazes out the window to see the sun sitting on top of the trees. If the sun was up that high, it must be at least ten o'clock. Why didn't Mama wake her up earlier? She had to get to work! She saw whip marks on the other people, she didn't want the same souvenirs. She quickly undresses from her night shift and puts on the same dark purple dress she had on the day before. Mama left some milk and cheese on the table for a quick breakfast. She must have already gone to the main manor to cook the Master and Mistress their own breakfast. It was probably a lot more filling and delicious then the same old cheese they had.  Misty puts a bandana over her fiery red hair before stepping out the front door into the fields. Not a lot of people were working already. Maybe she wasn't late after all. She tried to remember everything Master Ash had told her yesterday. How to do the planting and which ones to do first. It was all quite confusing to her. She did help out with the farming at home with Papa. But this place was different. Everything had to be perfected to the Master's liking, otherwise you paid for it, or tried to do better then next time…if there was a next time. Misty thought she'd start small for her first day at work and starts to weed her section of the field. She made a bucket out of her small apron and but all of the rubbish in there as she pulled. Whenever she got a load full, she'd go over to the tree-line and deposit them in a small hole she had dug. 

            "What exactly do you think you're doing?" Came a voice from behind.

            Misty dropped the fill of weeds she had in her skirt and turned around. "I'm sorry, Master, I thought I was doing it the right way. I didn't quite recall every word you told me yesterday and…"

            "Calm down, calm down." Ash sighs aghast. "At least you're doing something." He put a little bit of emphasis on something. "You were supposed to weed. But when you were finished, we have a bin to put all the extra shit in."

            Misty flinched. She'll have to get use to the different surrounding. "Yes, Master. I will be more attentive next time you give me directions."

            "Damn right you will." Ash walks in circles around her. He smiles in some sort of satisfaction. "It's bothering you, isn't it?"

            "What's bothering me, Master?" Misty asked.

            "My phrasing." Ash replies.

            "Your words don't bother me, Master." Misty said. "It's not my place to tell you what you should and shouldn't say."

            "I can tell you're sensitive, Misty." Ash says. "The hell with holding things back. Tell me all the stuff you have on your mind."

            "Excuse me, Master, but just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean those words disturb me. Of course I don't care to use them myself, but that's my choice. Christians can use those words as well. All if forgiven in the end." Misty says strongly.

            "Is that so?" Ash leans in towards her.

            "Damn right." Misty replies.

            "Very well then." Ash leans back again. "Okay, off you go. There is still weeding to do. You're not finished yet."

            "Yes, Master, I'll get right to it." Misty bows and runs off, back to the fields.

            That afternoon, Mama came back to their shack to have some lunch with her daughter. She brought some leftovers that the Master and Mistress didn't eat themselves. It was sort of a treat for them. They had crackers and slices of thin ham to put on top. Instead of water, or milk, they had iced tea. Misty told her about her little quarrel with the Master in the morning. Mama congratulated her on how she handled it. 

            "It isn't that big of a deal." Misty admitted. "I believe he's just trying to make me burst and yell at him or something."

            "He's underestimating you, Misty." Mama says. "He has no idea what a stronghold he's up against."

            "Thank you, Mama." Misty smiles.

            "Would you join me today after lunch in the back of the hut? I gathered a few more servants and we're having an afternoon service." Said Mama.

            "Oh, Really?" Misty asked excited. "That sounds great. Of course I'll be there."

            "Thank you, dear. I do need the support." Mama laughs.

            "But you're wonderful at that stuff, Mother." Misty says.

            "Oh, thank you, dear." Mama puts a hand on her cheek, flushing. "I do hope it goes well."

            "It will, Mama. It will."  
            Later that afternoon, Misty follows Mama into a little opening behind a circle of shacks in which the other slaves are housed. Misty was sort of surprised, that most of the people attending weren't her age. They were older people, like Mama. In fact, she hardly saw a person her age anywhere on this plantation. Only her and her Master she could recall looking to be around the same era.  Misty works her way into the crowd of gatherers and tries to get a front seat so she could see her Mama clearly. On her way there, she got some pats on the back and sympathetic looks.

            "You poor dear. So young and she has to go through this."

            "So delicate, does she have to work as much as we do? If she does, it's absurd."

            "Look at that baby face. Already encrusted with that scar."

            "Those people don't really have any heart, do they? Poor dear."

            Misty doesn't reply to these remarks. She was younger and had a lot more energy then they did. She should be doing the work. Mama was up front and Misty finally made her way there as well. She takes out her little pocket-size Bible that she always kept in her apron pocket. She flips through the pages and clears her throat.

            "Thank you everyone once more for attending. I hope the word of our Lord will reach us all today, easing our minds, calming our spirits, and giving us more reasons to live onward. Today I shall remind us the story of Moses." Mama introduces. Misty could tell she was nervous somehow. But it was not a big deal. Just read, Misty thought, just read it. " 'Moses tried to calm the people. "Don't worry," he said. "Today you will see God in action" The people were too scared to listen. God said, "Why do you cry out like that? Moses, raise your staff and the sea will split. There will be a wall of waves on both sides. The water will not touch you. Pass through the sea with the people. I will protect you. When the Egyptians try to follow, I will make the water crash on them and they will die." Moses raised his staff. A strong east wind blew the water so it stood straight up. A path formed in between the two walls of water. In the darkness, the people and all their sheep and cattle ran between the waves. They could hardly believe what was happening.'"

            Mama continues to preach the story of the parting of the Red Sea, how Pharaoh and his men tried to follow the Israelites, only to be crushed by the large walls of water next to them. Misty smiled to herself as Mama finished her story and started to conclude in a prayer.

            Mama ended the prayer and looked over the crowd of people. "You see? Even in times of desperate need, the Lord will come to our aid. He is always at our side, whispering in our ear. Move on with believing, he'll say, move on with your heart." Mama takes her finger and points to the sky. "Let us finish today with what we believe."

            Everybody chimes in with the Apostle's creed. "I believe in God the Father, Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ, His only begotten son, Our Lord; Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary; Suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. The third day He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven, and seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body, and the live everlasting. Amen."

            "Amen to that."

            Everybody turned to see the overseers with sneers on their faces. Mama's face went white, but her finger still pointed towards the heavens. They came over to her and took her from under her arms, lifting her up and taking her to the open field. They ordered everybody else to follow. They set Mama down next to a tree stump. Misty, being the shortest one, couldn't see what was going on. All of the other slaves were muttering to themselves in worry. Misty stood on her tip toes and jumped up and down, but still couldn't see. She could only hear what was going on.

            "So, you think you can do that on Master Giovanni's plantation and get away with it?" Came an overseer. "We'll show you what happens to people who point. It is very impolite."

            Misty pushes her way through the crowd, she could hear Mama struggling and almost pleading. Misty heard a swish and a thwack, followed by a shriek. Misty pressed her path through the final line of people and instantly covered her mouth with both hands as another swish, thwack, and yelp took place. Two fingers lay on the ground next to the tree stump. Blood covered the wood as Mama's hand was pressed against it. Each hand was missing a pointer finger. The overseers had chopped them off with a thick knife. Mama's face was covered in tears, though you could tell she was trying with all her might to hold them back. 

            "Think you're strong do ya?" An overseer asks maliciously.  "How about this one." He moves his knife to Mama's left hand, to her ring finger. The ring Papa gave her was still on it.

            "Please, sir, anything but that one." Mama cried. 

            The overseer just stared down at her in hate. He then tucks the knife safely back into his pocket. "Just let this be a lesson, woman. It is not polite to point…anywhere."

            The overseers leave and the crowd just stand there staring. Misty is almost filled with rage and sadness as she rushes over to her Mama's side. Mama fumbles with her apron, trying to wrap up her hands. Misty looks blankly at the two fingers on the ground, then to Mama's cut hands. It looked disgusting. Misty swallowed the big lump in her throat and helps Mama stand up. They walk over to the cabin together to bandage her up. Misty scowls to herself. She felt so enraged. But revenge may not be the way to solve it. She was gonna help Mama get away from this place. Even if she had to stay. 


	6. Questions

            About a week and a half have passed since Mama had that short trauma. Misty helped her as much as she could. The Master and Mistress were quite upset at what Mama did, but they showed some signs of mercy and gave her a little time off from the kitchens. Mama couldn't very well cook when her hands were bandaged up like they were. Misty was no doctor, but she tried to get them wrapped up as well as she could. That afternoon, Misty was busy harvesting the small squashes that were already planted when she arrived. She straightens up and tries to crack her back. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand and sighs. It was a nice day to just sit outside and relax. That's what she would be doing if her house still stood out in the fields of western Ireland. Mama would be standing over by the clothes line with her bucket of soapy water, washing all of Papa's shirts. Papa would either be in the shack outback where he worked on his carpentry, or was working on the small vegetable garden they had. Misty smiles to herself, remembering the old life. She then bends back down to find the ripe vegetables from the vines entwined all over the field and picking them. 

            "God of tomorrow, Strong over-comer." Misty sings to herself to pass the time. "Princes of darkness own your command. What then can harm us? We are your people. Now and forever, kept by your hand."

            "I don't understand." Misty looked up to see Master Ash beside her. "Why you keep on going on with that gibberish, knowing you could be punished for it."

            "I don't care." Misty replied.

            Ash took out his small whip and drove it across her back. Misty stopped picking and just stood there, hunched over. She could feel the hot strip of pain the leather brought and the tore it put in her dress. Misty swallows the phlegm that had rose in her throat.  

            "I dare you to try that again." Ash said and turned around to leave.

            "Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature's night. Your sunrise turned that night to day; I woke—the dungeon flamed with light!" Misty sang louder, trying to remember every word of her favorite hymn. "My chains fell off, your voice I knew; I rose, went out, an followed you. Amazing Love! How can it be, that you, my Lord, should die for me?"

            Another shot of white pain struck her back. Misty set the last squash she had in her hand in the basket beside her and straightened up. She stared into Ash's soft brown eyes and saw his face pulled stern. His pale knuckles clutched the handle of his whip tightly over his head. 

            "I warned you." Ash said, trying to sound fierce, but being far from. "If any more of that shit comes off your lips, I'll beat you to hell."

            Misty smiles at the challenge. "And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on. I'll sing on. And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on; and when from death I'm free, I'll sing and joyful be, and through eternity, I'll sing on. I'll sing on. And through eternity I'll si-."

            Ash whips her across the front three times. Once diagonally across the chest, and once on each arm, splitting her shoulders. Her dress was a simple rag now. Through the pain, Misty tried to keep a straight face. Ash roles up his whip and puts it back in between his belt loops and walks off. Misty finishes picking the last of the squash kneeling down in the dirt. She couldn't really bend over to well at the moment. She takes the basket and sets it outside the kitchen door and then heads back to her cabin. Mama rubbed some aloe into her cuts and then told Misty to lie down and rest. Misty only lied down for a few minutes, she couldn't sleep. So, she got up and went out, she still had some stuff to do. She had to get water from the well to go water the plants and then it was her job today to clean the front porch of the plantation house. On her third trip to the well, after filling her buckets, Ash came up to her once more. He just stood in front of her and stared. Misty shifted her weight from side to side, trying to balance the pole across her two sore shoulders. 

            "Yes, Master?" Misty asked.

            "I just wanted to talk to you for a while." Ash replies.

            "Yes, Master?" Misty said again.

            "Just put down your buckets for now." Ash commands and Misty does. He continues to look her over for some reason. 

            "What is it, Master?" Misty questions.

            "You are in fair shape." Ash comments.

            "I suppose." Misty says. "Why do you need to know?"

            "Before I continue, Misty. I'd like you ask you for something." Said Ash.

            "Go ahead."

            "Forgive me?"

            Misty blinked. "Why? For whipping me? I don't have a problem with that. I wouldn't actually care if you whipped me right now, more then you did before." Misty picks her buckets up again and starts to walk off. 

            Ash follows. "You people are known for that stuff."

            " 'You people'?" Misty stops and looks at him. 

            "Forgive me?" Ash repeats.

            Misty puts down her buckets once more and puts her hands on her hips. "Forgive you for what? You've killed my Papa. You've mutilated my Mama. And YOUR people have some foolish initiative that MY people are only good enough for labor. Let me ask you one question. You say you don't believe in the stuff I practice, but then why do you believe in Hell? Hell has to do with the Christian religion."

            "I'm sorry, okay? Forgive me?" Ash says again.

            "Did you just her any of the word I said?" Misty asks and takes up her buckets, walking off at a faster pace. 

            "Misty!" Ash called.

            Misty stops but doesn't turn around. "You are forgiven." She walks off and continues to water the plants.

            After about five minutes, Ash is at her side once more. He grabs her arm, making her spill a whole bucket just on dirt and drags her off towards the woods. He gets a little ways so no one could see them. Misty turns to look at him but her face gets twisted as Ash slaps her across the face. 

            Misty takes a deep breath. "I mean this in the best respects, Master, but you have a very odd personality."

            "So do you." Ash says austerely. "Please,.."

            "I forgave you, did you not hear me?" Misty said, trying not to sound demanding.

            "I wasn't going to ask for your forgiveness again. I was going to ask you to…to ask you if I could help."

            "Help how?" Misty whispered.

            "I want to get you out of here. I want to help you run away."

            "What?!" Misty shouted.

            "Shh, Shh." Ash puts a finger to his lips.

            "Why do you want to help me run? If you want to help anybody, please take my Mama away from this place. She deserves freedom more then I." Misty tells.

            "I know you want it." Ash says as he runs his finger across Misty's cross-shaped scar. "Please, just think about it, Misty."

            Misty feels her eyes start to get watery. She wraps her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you, Master. It's very hard to believe you; to trust you. But somehow, I do."

            The forest's shade gets wider night starts to blanket the plantation. Ash lifts Misty's chin up with one of his fingers. "In the moonlight I felt your heart, quiver like the bow-string's pulse. In the moon's pale light, you looked at me with those deep blue eyes. No body knows your heart."

            Misty smiles. "When the sun has gone, I see you, beautiful and haunting, but cold. Like the blade of a knife, so sharp, so sweet. No body knows your heart."

            "All of your sorrow, grief and pain…have it locked away in the mystery of the night." Ash whispers.

            "Your secret heart belongs to the darkness of the world." Misty could hardly tell what she was saying.

            "Yours is like the things that sigh in the dark." Ash says.

            Misty shakes her head. "No, like the things that cry in the dark."

            Misty could hardly see Ash's face anymore. Night had fallen very quickly with the trees in the way of the setting sun. The next thing she knew, Ash's lips were on her own. They just stood there, concealed in the darkness of their own two hearts. 


	7. It's a Promise

            Misty dips her rag into the bucket of warm, sudsy water a few times before wringing it out and beginning to scrub the porch of the Plantation House. She got in trouble by the Mistress when she had arrived that morning, for not showing up the previous day. All Misty could say was that she had a delay, and couldn't even get the watering done. Mistress showed great displeasure, but gave Misty a break. She was almost done with the front half, but still had the back and side to do. Mama was back in the kitchen that morning. Misty couldn't help but worry about her. She felt so responsible for everything. Dipping her rag in the water once more, someone comes out the door only a few feet behind her. It was Master Ash. He smiles when he sees Misty kneeling on the wooden floor, looking back at him. He starts to walk towards her and Misty holds her hand up in protest but it was already too late. Ash had slipped on the wet floor and crashed on his bottom, sliding a little bit. Misty covers her mouth with a hand as she sees Mistress exit the house as well. She notices her son on the floor and her chin drops.

            "How ridiculous!" She yells. "I would never have…Ah! You could have at least warned my boy, Misty, I'm very surprised at you."

            "Mother, it's alright." Ash stands up slowly, rubbing his side. "I didn't know that the floor was slippery."

            "You would have if she had told you!"

            "I didn't ask, Mother, and it happened all to quickly. She tried to warn me, but I didn't listen." Ash replies. Misty was so confused! Even Ash said that he would be treating her like shit in front of his parents. Yet, here he was, telling his mother that it was all his fault.

            Mistress's face gets pulled up with the little fury she could muster. Being such a kind woman, it must have been hard to get that mad. "Alright. I'll let it go. But just this once, Ash. I don't understand what has gotten into you this morning."

            "I'm just fine." 

            "Good." Mistress sighs and walks back into the house, mumbling to herself about something to do with new soap. 

            Misty quietly goes back to her cleaning, doing it slightly faster then usual. She tries her hardest not to notice Ash as he bends down to her level, trying to get her attention. He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dips it in the bucket of water and starts to scrub the floor himself. 

            "What do you think you are doing?!" Misty asked in surprise.

            Ash laughs a little. "I knew that would get your attention."

            "Please, I don't want any trouble." Misty says.

            "You think I'm trouble?" Ash cocks his head.

            "For all it's worth, you may end up being a nuisance to me someday if this keeps up." Misty says, avoiding his eyes. "I don't want any trouble."

            "So, I'm bugging you." Ash leans back on his heals and tucks the wet hanky back into his back pocket. "Well, Misty…what I said last night…"

            "Shh." Misty hushes, her eyes getting watery again. "I don't want --." 

            "I meant it."

            Misty throws her rag down on the floor as hard as she could and covers her face with her wet hands. "Those are the words I  didn't want to hear!"

            Misty parts her fingers and sees Ash's face in front of hers again. "Why?"

            "Because…it was all too good to be true." Misty sniffs. "When I was little, all the neighbor kids said I was so gullible. Too gullible at that. I'd believe anything they told me, most anything."

            "And you don't believe me?" Ash asks. "Misty, you are not gullible. You are the exact opposite. You like getting the information before taking the test. You measure before you dive. It's a very good quality."

            "But—."

            "If you were gullible, you'd believe all the shit I said about your Lord. You'd be going around telling your Mama to go the hell, or something like that. No offense meant by saying that." Ash quickly adds at the end. "I mean, you're a damn genius!"

            Misty finds herself laughing. "Thank you , Ash." 

            "Now, do you still want to go with me?" Ash asks.

            "I'm worried." Misty replies.

            "Don't be." Ash assures. "And I'll find a way for your Mama to get out as well. It's a promise, Misty." Ash takes Misty's face and turns it towards him. "Look at me. It's a promise. Now, promise you'll trust me. That's all I need from you at this point."

            Misty smiles. "I trust you, Master."

            Ash puts his hand to his ear. "What was that?"

            "I trust you, Master Ash." Misty corrects.

            Ash smiles and laughs, patting Misty on the shoulder. "That's my girl. Now, meet me behind the house at lunch time. I'll give you some food for your Mama and yourself, as well as the plans."

            "Okay," Misty agrees.

            "See you then, Misty." Ash said and walks off towards the fields.

            Misty continues to clean the floor, smiling and humming to herself. "It's a promise." She says softly.


End file.
